


I Love You, Simple as That

by bleepbloopbee



Series: fizzy citrus and smokey fire [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Hank Anderson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Human, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Omega Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, well there's plot if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 23:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleepbloopbee/pseuds/bleepbloopbee
Summary: Hank knots Connor for the first time, and it goes better than they had hoped.--------Originally a twitter thread





	I Love You, Simple as That

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this thread in February and I’m finally crossposting… whoops. But this is a refined version of the thread, where the plot and wording is more coherent. If you want to read the original though, [here](https://twitter.com/Bailey8GM/status/1100225157971566592) it is.  
I haven’t written a lot in three months, so I figured I’d ease myself back into it by writing short pieces, editing threads to cross post… and then maybe I’ll try to get back into some of my long fics. I’ve missed writing so I gotta force myself back into it, hahaha.

Knotting is a subject that Hank and Connor have been dancing around for awhile.It didn’t happen the first time they got intimate, nor the time after that, or after that, or after that… Both of them are hesitant. 

Hank’s scared he’ll hurt Connor. Connor’s not sure if it’ll fit. 

They have an active sexlife, don’t get them wrong. It’s not daily, in no way could it be, but it’s frequent enough to satisfy them both. Days off bring sleepy sex, where Connor rides his Alpha slow and deep. Early nights sometimes end up with blowjobs on the couch. Shower sex is often. 

That being said, they’re well aware of each other's limits. Connor’s got an ever-deepening praise kink, and Hank’s feeling more confident in his capabilities than he has in years. 

Despite all of this, knotting is a topic they skirt around. And like most topics relating to their sex life, it’s brought up during dinner. 

When Connor asks, they’re at his apartment. They’re not there often-- the place is tiny and just barely above a studio. And as time passes, more of Connor’s stuff migrates to Hank’s apartment. There’s hardly enough left for him to call it home, causing Hank to joke about letting the lease run out on the apartment then moving in with him. But that idea hasn’t gone much further than jokes. 

They’re eating at Connor’s equally tiny, two person table when he asks. 

“Why haven’t you knotted me yet?”

The question is loud. 

Conversation had lulled, and the space had been filled with the whirring of Connor’s outdated AC unit and the bubbling of the fish tank in the corner of the room.

Hank swallows his mouthful of rice roughly. It burns as it goes down. 

“What?” he rasps, reaching for his glass to wash it down. 

The corners of Connor’s lips dip down, just barely into a frown. 

“Why haven’t you knotted me?” He repeats, voice dipping into some kind of sadness. 

It makes Hank’s chest hurt. He hadn’t realized how much Connor had been bothered by this. 

“Uh…” he tries to come up with some kind of eloquent response. It’s hard though, with his Omega looking at him expectantly from the other side of the table. After a beat of silence, Connor’s eyebrows pinch in and his frown deepens. He looks down at his plate, stabbing a piece of chicken. 

“Oh,” he murmurs. 

Hank sets down his fork. He leans back in his chair, running his hands through his hair as the old wooden thing creaks. 

“It’s not like that--” he pauses to exhale. “I’m just… I’m scared I’ll hurt you.”

Connor makes some kind of confused noise. 

“I’m a big guy Con,” Hank says, he reaches a hand across the table, resting it palm up. Connor looks at it, looking like he’s about to sigh.

“I already stretch you pretty wide,” Hank continues. “You’ve taken more of me than any partner ever has. You don’t need to take my knot.”

Connor doesn’t sigh. He takes Hank’s hand, twining their fingers together. 

“I  _ want  _ to.” He replies. “I want you. Every part. Don’t I beg for it?”

Yes. 

The answer is simple. 

Yes he does. 

He begs and cries and whimpers for Hank’s knot, not wanting anything else while strung out on Omegan hormones. It’s attractive, don’t get Hank wrong. He loves that he can get Connor so relaxed that he can safely listen to his instincts… but he doesn’t want to abuse that trust by hurting him in the heat of the moment. 

But this isn’t the heat of the moment. This is an actual discussion. 

“What if I hurt you?” Hank asks, feeling a little stupid for asking. 

“I’ll be okay.” Connor squeezes Hank’s hand. His frown has long since faded, and it’s now replaced with a reassuring smile. 

“Besides, I’d love to be so fucked out I can’t walk straight.”

The vicious grin that crosses Connor’s lips is enough to get Hank stirring in his jeans. Hank murmurs out a curse, rolling his eyes. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

Connor laughs. He pulls his hand away so he can continue eating. Hank goes back to eating too, and from there the conversation moves on. 

  
  


It isn’t talked about for a few days. 

The week passes as it usually does. They work late a few nights in a row, and for their overtime, Fowler has gifted them a free Saturday. They’re not even on call. It’s a nice tradeoff, but the week was still hell. 

Or at least, it was for Hank. 

He won’t admit it but he’s been thinking about Connor all week. It’s hard to keep a straight face in front of the witnesses you’re questioning when all you can think about is your Omega clenching tight around your cock, moaning and whimpering as each they take each inch. It’s really,  _ really  _ fucking hard, and Hank doesn’t know how he survived the week. But here they are now: relaxing on the worn couch in the middle of Connor’s apartment. 

They had spent the day going back and forth about Connor moving in. Did they want to stay in Hank’s current house… or potentially find something bigger? It was a big fucking decision, and they called the discussion quits for the day around dinner time. 

Now, with empty takeout boxes dotting the coffee table, they sit and watch a movie. But neither are really paying attention; they’re focusing on each other, sharing lazy kisses. 

Without Sumo here, sprawled across their laps, Connor can easily slip into Hank’s lap, straddling his wide thighs as they kiss. Soft noises slip out as Hank trails his hands over Connor’s back and sides. 

Thank god Connor’s building is old and the walls are thick, because Connor may be quiet now, but Hank plans on changing that.

Their scents begin to mingle, and the pace picks up. As fizzy carbonation crackles with smoke-filled fire, Connor ruts against Hank’s thigh. Both heave for air. Their scents are intoxicating together.

“Can you knot me tonight?” Connor asks between breaths. 

The question itself is kind of dumb sounding. If Hank wasn’t so aroused, he would’ve laughed. But there’s a fire burning in his chest, ready to go. 

“Yeah,” Hank nods sharply. He plants his hands on the backs of Connor’s thighs, barely giving Connor a warning before he stands. Connor squeaks, throwing his arms around Hank’s shoulders in order to not be dropped. His squeak melts into a laugh, and he allows himself to be carried to the bedroom. 

Hank doesn’t bother closing the door. They’re alone in the apartment, there’s no need. He crosses the small bedroom, and he drops Connor unceremoniously onto the bed. Some of the pillows on the bed slip off; Connor’s got an obscene amount of pillows on his bed. He’s always been the nesting type, and yeah, Hank finds it adorable, but it’s a pain in the ass to arrange all of the pillows so there’s room for the two of them. 

But he doesn’t bother tonight. Connor settles in perfectly, resting back against the pillows as Hank steps back to undress. He watches with hunger in his eyes, bottom lip between his teeth. He looks like a fucking king-- nestled in a throne of pillows. 

“How do you want me?” He asks as Hank works on the buttons of his shirt. With each button, he gets harder. Hank’s got weight to throw around, and  _ god,  _ if Connor didn’t love being pinned underneath all that bulk. 

“Just like that babydoll,” Hank replies. The last button comes undone, and he slips the shirt off. Underneath is an undershirt, which comes off easily. “Got a big knot sweetheart, you’re gonna need to be comfortable.”

Connor nods. He sits forward just enough to start working on taking off his shirt. Hank’s naked from the waist up, and he’s working on changing that. He pulls his belt through the loops when he glances up, watching Connor reveal his pale chest button by button. Hank speeds up, dropping his belt with such force that it clacks against the hardwood floor. 

Tonight is not a night for slow sex. Energy is crackling through the air like a live wire, matched with the crackling mix of their scents. 

Hank pushes down his pants and boxers in one go. Connor gets his shirt off and tosses it in the direction of the hamper. He then sits back, resting against the pillows. He knows that Hank  _ highly  _ enjoys doing the rest-- undressing Connor like he’s a present to be unwrapped. In anticipation, he spreads his thighs. 

Hank comes a second later, crawling up the mattress to settle in between his Omega’s legs. He leans in close, placing his hands on either side of Connor’s shoulders. His stomach presses against Connor’s, coarse grey hair pressed against soft skin. 

“Look at you,” Hank murmurs, leaning in close to brush his lips against Connor’s. Connor isn’t for teasing. He plants his hands on either side of Hank’s jaw, fingers weaving through the hair there. He pulls Hank in for a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than lips. 

He’s getting feisty, nipping at Hank’s lips then driving his tongue in deep. Hank huffs out a laugh, warm breath fanning over Connor’s jaw. 

The kiss breaks a minute later with Connor whining. 

“Alpha…”

“I know, I know babydoll,” Hank murmurs. 

He sits back, out from under Connor’s touch. 

“Let’s get you undressed, yeah?”

Connor nods enthusiastically, throwing his arms above his head to let Hank do all the work. Hank snorts softly, but decides to not comment on it. Instead, he trails his hands down over Connor’s chest, over his stomach. Warm fingers run over his peach fuzz happy trail. Connor laughs softly, muscles clenching under Hank’s stouch as he tries to not squirm. Hank cracks a s mile, keeping one hand on Connor’s belly as the other starts working on the button and zipper. 

When both are undone, he uses both hands to tug down Connor’s pants. Connor wiggles, lifting his hips the best he can to make the process easier. 

Hank pulls them down slowly, eyes devouring the sight of Connor. 

When they’re off, Connor throws an arm over his eyes, cheeks turning red. 

“Oh Con… you got all dressed up for me.”

Out of all the things he’s worn before, tonight’s choice is pretty tame. It gets still gets Hank going though/ 

Underneath his jeans, he’s got on a jockstrap. It’s a deep wine red, standing stark against pale skin. The fabric clings to Connor’s cock in all the right ways, and Hank knows that if he turns his Omega over, the straps would frame Con’s ass perfectly. 

Hank tugs the pants down the rest of the way, then tosses them somewhere else in the room. Now that he’s not restricted by clothing, Connor draws his legs up. He plants his feet flat on the bed, letting his knees bend and spread open. 

Hank’s got a full view now. 

His scent picks up in a heartbeat, warmth filling the room and overpowering Connor’s senses. 

Connor murmurs something indecipherable, moving his arm away from his eyes. Their eyes meet then, and Connor’s blush deepens. Hank’s looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky. 

“Did you plan this?” Hank asks, setting his hands on Connor’s knees. He pulls them further apart, if that’s possible, and spies a little wet spot start to form on the fabric. A bead of slick slips out from underneath the jock. 

“I’ve been…. I’ve been thinking about this all week,” Connor admits sheepishly. “It’s been hard to not think about it. Your knot… plugging me up… you’d fill me up with cum and lock it all in.”

Hank groans softly. 

_ God,  _ he’s been thinking damn near the same thing. Cumming deep inside, then knotting his Omega. Connor would clench so tight around him… keeping them close long after they cum. Hank has to take a deep breath, but that doesn’t even help. He breathes in Connor’s sweet scent, peaches and lemons filling his nose and driving him wild. 

“You want me to do that, babydoll?” He asks. He starts to move his hands down, running over Connor’s sensitive inner thighs. Connor’s legs tense for a second, a whimper slipping from his lips. 

“Yes,” he exhales the word, voice already getting airy. 

Hank’s fingers brush the edge of the jock. He plays with the hem for a few seconds-- just enough for Connor to get impatient and roll his hips. He tries to entice Hank, but it’s useless because Hank is already gone. 

“Talk me through it,” Hank says. He slips his fingers under the hem of the jock, fingertips brushing the base of Connor’s hard little cock. “I want to hear what’s been going through your head all week.”

He nudges the fabric over so he can curl his fingers around Connor’s cock. The Omega whimpers, fingers clutching at whatever he can reach. One is tangled in the sheets while the other grips the edge of a pillow that’s half-wedged under his back. 

“I keep thinking about your knot,” he pauses to take a breath. His voice is shaking ever-so-slightly. “I want it to fill me up. I don’t care if it hurts… I just want to be able to take it all.”

Hank bites his bottom lip to keep from groaning. He doesn’t want to interrupt Connor. He’s well aware that Connor’s gonna be the death of him one of these days. His Omega is so damn beautiful-- curving, soft, pink lips wrapping around such naughty words… Pale chest turning red as the blush spreads… Knees shaking as he tries to keep still for his Alpha.

Hank pulls his hand away, drawing a whine out of Connor. 

“I want you to plug me up!” Connor admits with a sharp gasp. His eyes clench shut and his head rolls back against the pillows. “N-Not with a toy...”

Another bead of slick slips out. Hank watches it drop down and wet the bed sheets below. 

“...but with your cock,” Connor whispers. 

“Oh babydoll,” Hank murmurs. “You want all of that?”

“Yes,” Connor nods without a doubt. 

A smile crosses Hank’s lips. He’s so fucking in love. 

Connor doesn’t like the momentary pause. He shifts, bringing his hips up so he can shove a pillow underneath himself. It props him up, giving Hank more room to work with. Hank takes the hint, humming appreciatively. He rewards his Omega by circling a wide finger around his entrance. 

Connor exhales heavily, feeling Hank gather up the slick that’s already bubbling up. The breath turns into a loose moan as Hank pushes a finger in. It’s loud, louder than the sounds he’s made so far, but in now way is it the loudest he’s going to get tonight. 

Connor takes the first finger easily. So easily, that Hank quickly adds another.

Slick covers his hand, dripping down onto the bed and making a mess. But neither give a shit as Hank pumps his fingers in and out. The sounds are wet and obscene, mixing with Connor’s sugar sweet noises. 

Suddenly, Connor’s thighs tense up and his grip on the pillows clenches. 

“Relax babydoll,” Hank murmurs, kissing the bend of Connor’s knee. “Never gonna fit it all in if you don’t loosen up.”

His fingers slow, drawing Connor back from the edge he’s quickly coming to. It works; Connor’s chest heaves as he breathes, forcing himself to relax. The tension leaves him. 

“Good…” Hank praises. “You always do so good for me… keep taking deep breaths and it’ll barely hurt. I’ll go slow.”

Hank pulls his fingers out. Connor makes a displeased noise at the emptiness. Hank kisses his leg again, murmuring out another praise. Then, he pulls back for a second. 

Connor’s eyes open, watching his Alpha sit up onto his knees.

Hank spreads Connor’s cheeks open, revealing his beautiful, flush, slick hole. Slick is dripping down, bubbling up from its gape. 

Hank hums contently, taking his cock in hand. He runs the head of his cock over Connor’s hole, gathering up the slick. Connor moans softly, fingers clutching the sheets. His eyes shut as Hank starts to press in. His face starts to twist up. Hank knows the cues and slows, murmuring sweet nothings and massaging circles into Connor’s hips. 

The first push in is slow, but soon enough Hank’s hips meet the back of Connor’s thighs. 

“Alpha…” Connor’s breathing is labored as he gets used to the feeling of being full. 

“So good, babydoll,” Hank replies, starting to rock his hips back. Connor’s lips part within a second, letting out a steady stream of pleasured noises. Soft moans, little whimpers, airy ‘Alpha’s, and quiet ‘fuck’s as Hank beings to set a pace. 

Hank’s not as young as he used to be-- he can’t fuck Connor like he wants to without his back aching. But the strain is completely worth it, because as he sets a faster pace, Connor’s noises hike in pitch and volume. 

Without warning, Connor’s hands fly up from the pillows and clutch Hank’s shoulders. Hank sways, then readjusts. He braces himself against the bed, one palm wrapped around Connor’s hip with the other on the bed by his shoulder. 

The closer position presses their stomachs together; Hank’s barrel-like middle up against Connor’s lean frame. As the weight presses against him, Connor’s eyes crack open. They’re already glassy. One of his hands moves up, cupping Hank’s cheek. 

Hank leans down for a kiss before Connor can pull him in. 

Their lips meet. Hank swallows down all of his honey-sweet noises. 

They sound like a goddamn porno; thank fucking christ the walls of Connor’s ancient apartment are thick. The sound of their hips meeting, the slick slide of Hank’s cock, and their moans are loud-- echoing around the tiny bedroom. 

“A-Alpha!” Connor breaks the kiss to whine. His head tilts back, baring his neck for Hank. His fizzy fruit scent rolls off of him in waves, clogging Hank’s senses and driving him crazy. He leans in, running his tongue up the side of Connor’s neck. 

“My little lovely Omega,” Hank murmurs into the skin of Connor’s neck, right over his scent gland. The citrus is so damn strong his eyes start to water, but fuck if it wasn’t the most intoxicating thing he’s ever smelled.

With each thrust, they’re getting closer to the edge. Hank’s knot is threatening to swell, brushing against Connor’s rim every few seconds. 

“Getting close babydoll?” Hank asks, voice husky and thick.

Connor nods wordlessly, biting his bottom lip as a flush starts to cover his cheeks. 

“Me too, fuck--” Hank’s teeth skim across Connor’s neck. “Touch yourself. I want you--  _ shit _ \-- I want you cumming around my fat fucking cock.”

Connor’s nails dig into Hank’s shoulder, and he does as he’s told. His other hand snakes between their sweat-slick bodies. 

“K-Knot me?” 

“Yeah babydoll,” Hank replies instantly. “‘M gonna fill you up with cum… gonna fill you with pups…”

Connor sobs. He thrashes, muscles twitching as he begins to reach the point of overstimulation. Hank doesn’t dare stop in his brutal pace, knowing just how much Connor loves to be fucked through his orgasm. 

His legs finally lock up. With one loud, echoing cry, Connor’s eyes clench shut and he paints white streaks across his and Hank’s stomachs. 

“Oh god Con,” Hank groans, feeling his Omega tighten around his cock. “Ready baby? I’m so damn close--”

“Yes! Yes, yes yes yes...” Connor nods, holding in a sob. His eyes are clenched shut; he’s scared that if he opens his eyes he’s going to cry. 

Hank’s thrusts stalls, and Connor’s eyes open on instinct. 

“Alph--”

Hank presses further in. “Oh fuck…”

The bulge of the knot makes it past Connor’s hole, and the rest goes in easy. Connor’s half-whine turns into a startling moan as he’s filled in a way he’s never been before. He ruts for only a second before he’s gone. 

Connor’s tight and warm and wet and  _ so fucking good.  _

Connor sobs again, warmth filling him as Hank groans. 

There’s a few beats of silence-- the only sound is their labored breaths. 

Then, Connor whimpers; the sound borders on pain. 

Hank’s eyes shoot open, the glow of orgasm fading in seconds at the thought of his Omega in distress. 

Tears roll down Connor’s flushed cheeks, the Omega boneless against the pillows.

“Connor?” Hank murmurs, cupping Connor’s cheek. At the call of his name, Connor’s brown doe-like eyes slowly open. 

“Oh Connor--” Hank’s immediately regretting this. It feels so fucking incredible; the Alpha in him that has been roaring for weeks is finally sated. But if Connor’s in pain--

“I’m okay,” Connor weakly replies. He smiles, just barely, curling his arms around Hank’s biceps. “I’m just… I’m so overwhelmed.”

Hank lets himself be pulled down. He curls his arms tight around his love, holding their chests close, not caring that they’re smearing Connor’s cum across their stomachs. 

“I know it’s a lot, baby,” Hank murmurs into Connor’s hair. “You did so fucking good. You took all of it, I’m so proud of you.”

Connor sobs weakly, tucking his head into the crook of Hank’s neck. He forces himself to take a few deep breaths. The warm campfire scent fills his lungs, its smoky hints calming his mind. 

As he calms, Hank murmurs sweet praises. They’ve got some time before they can separate. It’s not just the knot keeping them close-- Hank wants to make sure Connor comes down from the subspace he floats into when things get intense.

It takes a bit, but Connor’s breathing slows as Hank rubs circles into his back. The weight on his chest helps ground him. He exhales slowly, and murmurs a soft  _ thank you.  _

Hank laughs airily, running fingers through Connor’s hair. It’s greasy from sweat, but they’re going to shower anyway. They’ve definitely got to-- they’re sticky from sweat, slick, and cum. Plus, Hank’s entirely aware that when he finally pulls out they’ll have a lot more mess to deal with. But that’s a problem they’ll deal with later. For now:

“Why are you thanking me?” He asks. 

“For everything… and nothing…” Connor replies. “You’re beautiful and I love you.”

Hank snorts quietly. 

Connor pulls away, just enough that their eyes can meet. The tears on Connor’s cheeks have dried now. 

“I love you too,” Hank replies with a smile. That little gap between his teeth shows, and Connor cracks a smile. Hank’s smiles are always infectious. 

**Author's Note:**

> 💙💙
> 
> double edit: i thought twitter pulled down my main account, but they FORTUNATELY gave it back. so now i have two twitters so if you want, you can follow both!! [Bailey8GM](https://twitter.com/Bailey8GM) is my main DBH/fandom account and the other, [BaileyEightGM](https://twitter.com/BaileyEightGM) is for normal shit so I can have irl friends follow :D miracles can happen folks


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